


Enchantment Passing Through

by avani



Category: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/pseuds/avani
Summary: A prelude to the most magical courtship of Penelope Featherington and the Honorable Colin Bridgerton.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 15
Kudos: 151
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2019





	Enchantment Passing Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bropunzeling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bropunzeling/gifts).



> Dear bropunzeling, thank you for the amazing prompt of Bridgertons + the HP 'verse! I hope you enjoy this brief treat from that universe :)

By far the most terrifying moment of Portia Featherington’s life was the instant in which she discovered that her third daughter Penelope was, rather than being clumsy and careless, was in fact uncommonly gifted. So much so, in fact, that she had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without having so much of a drop of magical blood in her ancestry. (“And thank heavens,” Mrs Featherington was heard to whimper, “whatever should I do if there were _more_ of them?”)

In contrast, Penelope was certain that the most thrilling hour of her life was that shining period during which she believed she might be allowed to accept the offer. Only think, she told herself, a castle in Scotland and classrooms full of friends! But no; Mrs Featherington protested she could not possibly permit her darling child to study so far away, leaving her--a widow!—so very alone and bereft, and being presented with alternatives, opted instead to allow Penelope to continue her education through correspondence rather than going away to school. The special messenger went away, satisfied, and with him went all Penelope’s hopes of escape. 

In Mrs Featherington’s defense, she was as good as her word: Penelope was indeed given liberty and leisure to pursue her studies of magic, as well as a wand surreptitiously purchased second-hand, and her mother even suffered the indignity of a host of owls to take up residence in the attic of their townhouse, despite what the neighbors might say. Furthermore, Penelope was fortunate enough to be a clever and curious child, and soon collected sufficient tutors and textbooks that her knowledge of magic soon grew to be quite expansive--but it was lonely work, teaching herself charms and conjurations unattended. Despite the extensive list of subjects she researched in her study, she did her best to avoid wizarding haunts. She knew all too well that all friendships and professional affiliations had their roots in Hogwarts, and the last thing she needed was a reminder of how much she had lost.

By the spring of 1812, Penelope had--much to her own surprise--sat for and passed quite a respectable number of O.W.L.s, enough that those teachers she knew only by letter agreed her formal education need continue no longer. Naturally she was expected to keep up with her independent study, wrote her potions mistress and chief correspondent in her usual heavy hand; that said, her favorite of her instructors—a certain Professor V. Ledger--cheerfully disagreed, it seemed likely that Penelope’s attention would soon be taken up by more pressing concerns. Beyond a vague awareness that her sisters had been presented in Society when they were not much older than she was now, Penelope simply hadn’t the faintest idea what her Divination instructor might mean. 

That was before she had met Colin Bridgerton. 

One wayward bonnet and the resulting undignified fall later, Penelope knew what it was to lose one’s heart as memorizing the recipe and various uses for Amortentia had never taught her. That was more than enough to grapple with, were it not for the fact that Mrs Featherington insisted on bringing Penelope out the year following, leading to yet another discovery: the long hours spent in solitary study of a secret she could never reveal to others had left Penelope with absolutely no social graces except increasingly awkward silence. It was simply Penelope’s luck that on the very rare opportunities her mother could finagle a conversation with an eligible bachelor, or honestly anyone at all, her mind supplied only a series of comments that would surely break the International Statue of Secrecy at once. Penelope’s hems and haws might have seemed preferable to imprisonment and execution; but all too soon it became clear that they had sentenced her to a worse fate: a life spent on the lowest runs of the social ladder, facing half-hearted pity at best and outright scorn at worst. The blistering words of one Lady Whistledown did nothing to alleviate this, but at least there Penelope might comfort herself with not being the only target of that lady’s derision. It seemed rather cold comfort when seeing herself unfavorably compared to fruit in newsprint for the tenth time. 

And throughout it all, there was Colin. 

Oh, Penelope hoped. The forces keeping them apart were forgotten; the fact that Colin was blithely unaware of Penelope’s secret abilities was of no consequence. Slightly more significant was the fact that Colin, general good nature aside, had never once showed any signs of partiality towards her, but it did not help that Lady Bridgerton seemed to take to Penelope at once as though they had known each other for years, nor that her daughter Eloise befriended Penelope in turn. Eloise was the friend she had dreamed of; madcap, managing, and (as one could tell after a few minutes in her company) utterly non-magical. One couldn’t have everything, however, or so Penelope told herself. Why should she expect that Eloise would be able to 

Over the years, Penelope trailed in and out of the Bridgerton home, and, several surreptitious uses of well-placed Charms aside, endeavoured to stumble across the object of her attentions more often than not. At least until the day Penelope discovered the demerits of using an Amplification Spell to listen in on the conversations of others--and simultaneously confirmed the unlikelihood of Colin Bridgerton ever harboring fonder feelings for her. The pain of being denied Hogwarts had been nothing to this, but, if nothing else, it had accustomed her to heartache. She even greeted the news that Colin had taken her secondhand advice and hied himself aboard with remarkable haste with aplomb.

Colin Bridgerton continued traveling, Lady Whistledown continued writing, and Penelope—well, Penelope told herself that uncommonly gifted though she might be, even she could not expect her life to change.

*

Hours after Lady Danbury’s public challenge to unmask the notorious Lady Whistledown at Violet Bridgerton’s birthday fete, another party gathered—this one composed of the great magical names to be found amidst the ton. The Stirlings were present, as were the St. Clairs, and five out of nine Bridgertons: the rest, naturally, being unavoidably detained due to professional pursuits, the demands of education, or—in the case of Eloise—a state of Squib-hood. Colin, squarely in the middle of the family huddle, fought back a yawn and wished he’d helped himself to more of the ginger biscuits laid out at Lady Danbury’s foyer. If nothing else, it might lend him a hand in keeping his eyes open when his soft comfortable bed called. Perhaps, if he were just stealthy enough, he might creep out a side door before he was noticed….

“And so any dunderhead should be capable of seeing--“ Colin jumped and stood instinctively to attention as his hostess’ stentorian voice echoed through the parlor “—how imperative it is that this ‘Lady Whistledown’ be discovered. Don’t you agree, Mr. Bridgerton?”

Despite the presence of at least two brothers who shared the surname, Colin unhappily had no doubt that he was the one called out. Feeling rather as though he were a schoolboy, and Lady Danbury a frankly terrifying Deputy Headmistress, he cleared his throat. “Uh. Yes. Of course.”

That wasn’t enough for Lady D. “Well, tell us why, boy!” she barked, stomping the oversized wand so many Muggles mistook for a cane.

To think he’d only suffered the tyranny of the Danbury regime until she’d taken retirement during his fifth year; in memory it seemed much, much, _much_ longer. Subsequently he heard she occupied herself giving potions tutions by owl—in which case Colin pitied the poor young blighters blessed with her undivided attention.

“Erm,” he said, all too aware he was doing nothing to help his reputation as the only Bridgerton brother without a worthwhile thought in his pretty head. Naturally this was not helped by the fact that he alone, out of his siblings, had been sorted into Ravenclaw like their late father: a feat not even Anthony, Gryffindor to the core, had managed. This warranted deep thought. _Because you’re (_ or _I was_ , for that matter) _bored_ was never the right answer when it came to Lady D, as countless detentions spent scrubbing out used cauldrons could prove; and as much as Penelope and the other Muggles might suspect Her Ladyship of being Whistledown herself, Colin knew better than to seriously consider the possibility. As a last resort, he forced a smile. “Because too many find her odious?”

Including, he thought, himself. He was _tired_ of reading her reports about his family, and all the more her speculations about his own matrimonial chances.

Lady Danbury guffawed. “Or, Mr. Bridgerton, I might have considered that given your each of our families’ formidable reputations—not to mention the wards we cast—the only way that Whistledown woman might worm out as much information as she does is through the use of powerful magic of her own. Which means either she’s one of us, and has gone too far….or she’s a rogue witch we know nothing of.”

 _That_ was rather more concerning. Colin might not be an Auror like Daff, or a rising star in the Ministry like his brother-in-law Simon, but even he knew a witch or wizard working on their own meant only trouble. Lady D, loath as he was to admit it, had a point: unmasking Whistledown was important, not only for the sake of winning a thousand pounds, but also for stopping a renegade before they might destroy magical Society as London knew it.

And Colin Bridgerton, overlooked Ravenclaw and the last of his siblings to find a calling, would be the one to do it—one way or another.


End file.
